Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Not quite distance and not quite presence

So there’s that moment where I enter the part of the park where the action takes place, if that’s what you call it, action, I mean I see it up ahead, the shadow inside trees and there it is, this guy sucking cock and you know how I need it now or I’m going to die. They are playing shy or uncomfortable or distant or whatever it is that makes them leave this tree right by the paved path like it’s hidden.

And then later, this other guy comes up and says: I want to hug you. And I say: I like hugs. So then we hug, and it’s nice, calming, now I’m tired actually and ready to go and he is telling me stories of guys who mostly like to cuddle, come over to his place and cuddle and then he brushes his hand through my hair and I notice I moved inside, quiet, it’s not quite distance but it’s not quite presence and so I need to leave, not stay in that place of letting them touch me, why? So I say goodbye, and he says: if you see me around, feel free to say hi—which is nice too, rare, and then I’m walking home.

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